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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23371519">Of Strings that Spiral Down and Down</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliophilesnowflake/pseuds/bibliophilesnowflake'>bibliophilesnowflake</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Muggle, F/M, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Minor Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter, Mutual Pining, Romance, Slice of Life</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:47:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,264</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23371519</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliophilesnowflake/pseuds/bibliophilesnowflake</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things are better left unsaid. But sometimes, speaking your mind is the only way to set you free.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Maybe I'm overthinking too much. My head's gotten the best of me yet again. But I can't stop it. So I just stare at my reflection in the mirror and hope to God that my dress transforms into something more attractive. I wish I had magic.    </p><p>The sweetheart neckline bothers me. The ribbon surrounding my waist bothers me. The skirt bothers me. Everything about this stupid red dress bothers me.    </p><p>My fat arms aren't helping either. I should change.    </p><p>There's a rap on my door. "Hermione, have you died?" It's Pansy. She's glaring at me, hands on her hips, when I open the door for her. "Still alive I see."    </p><p>"Hello."    </p><p>"They're arriving in five minutes and you're not even done with your hair—"    </p><p>"Do I look too fat?" I blurt out.    </p><p>Pansy's confused. I tug at the hem of my skirt. "The dress."    </p><p>She rolls her eyes and pushes me in front of the full-length mirror. Quite harshly, I might add. "You look fine. But is this the only one you have?"    </p><p>I shuffle through my mental library. "Hmmm. No."    </p><p>"Then change."    </p><p>"If you want me to look like I'm going to a funeral, sure."    </p><p>"You're kidding?"    </p><p>"No."    </p><p>She sighs and moves to my closet and starts rummaging. Searching for something. She won't find any. Pretty sure.    </p><p>"Get started with your hair," she tells me. And I do.    </p><p>I'm about to clip the barrette on my bangs when Pansy makes a surprised noise. I look at her and she's holding a white dress I don't remember buying.     </p><p>"What — that wasn't there before!"    </p><p>She throws it to me. "Maybe it's from your mum. I don't know — when she visited a month ago?"    </p><p>Mum <em>did</em> visit our flat a month ago. When she and dad decided to go to London for my birthday. Oh, well. "Maybe."    </p><p>We hear a knock from outside. Pansy looks at me wide-eyed. "Okay. Fuck. Hurry up!" </p><p>She closes the door behind her and I quickly change from my monstrosity of a dress into the new one.     </p><p>It's off the shoulder and has long sleeves. There's a gold ribbon below my breasts and the skirt is loose, ending just above my knees. And I don't look half bad.     </p><p>The fabric's soft on my skin. I like it.    </p><p>I put on lip gloss and slip my feet into gold (thank God I have one) heels, grab my purse and rush out the door.    </p><p>I see Pansy fiddling with Harry's tie, who looks quite uncomfortable. "Potter, stop fidgeting!"    </p><p>"Pans, you're choking him," I say. Harry gives me a strained smile. It makes me laugh.    </p><p>"Well, he doesn't complain under different circumstances..."    </p><p>I pretend not to hear her and give my best friend a peck on the cheek. Pansy swats my arm. "Off of my property."    </p><p>"Pansy..." Harry sighs. His girlfriend's finally done. She kisses him and I look away, smiling. They're too in love.     </p><p>I go to the kitchen for a drink. But I almost change my mind as soon as I see Blaise and Ginny snogging. "Oh, great. Absolutely delightful."    </p><p>They tear off each other. Blaise smirks at me, wiping at his lips. "Hey, Granger."    </p><p>"Hello, Blaise. Water?"    </p><p>"No thanks."    </p><p>I nod and grab a water bottle from the fridge. As I uncap it, Ginny grins at me. "Well someone's looking pretty."    </p><p>"Nice try."    </p><p>"You are! Blaise, isn't she?"    </p><p>Her boyfriend hums in agreement. I give them both a glare and stomp back to the living room. Compliments overwhelm me too much. It makes me question the sincerity of their words. Even if they are my friends.    </p><p>"So, are we leaving already?" I ask Pansy and Harry.    </p><p>"Oh, yeah," Harry replies and gestures to the door. "Ginny! Zabini! Stop snogging and get the bloody hell out of there! We're leaving!" </p>
<hr/><p>Theo greets us enthusiastically when he sees us step out of the elevator. Posh-looking people are in the penthouse and I feel conscious immediately. I never was the type of person to blend in naturally. Harry and the others fit that category more.    </p><p>"Hermione!" The host gives me a hug, not before giving me a once over and commenting about my exterior. "Is it just me or you got skinnier?"    </p><p>I roll my eyes. "I missed you too, Theo."    </p><p>"No, seriously. What's your secret?"    </p><p>I clench my fist and try to even my breathing. "I didn't even notice I lost weight..."    </p><p>Pansy frowns beside me, I notice.</p><p>It's a relief Theo doesn't push the topic even further. He turns to Harry and Pansy next.    </p><p>"Potter, you're getting hotter and hotter each year that passes. Would Pansy mind if I stole you for the night?"    </p><p>"Sod off, Theo. Or I'll cut your balls off." I hear Pansy and Theo bicker before I walk off to the bar. Idiots.    </p><p>And I need a drink.    </p><p>I request a chardonnay to the bartender. My palms are sweaty when I rub them together. I take the glass immediately when my drink's handed to me.    </p><p>I roam my eyes around, searching for space. I see double doors leading onto a balcony.     </p><p>I trudge through the sea of people. Out the door. And I breathe a sigh of relief.    </p><p>There are a few couples out here too. But not enough to suffocate me. I walk to the emptiest area and lean back on the balustrade.    </p><p>A sip. Then I close my eyes, feeling the burn of the alcohol down my throat. My phone's buzzing and I take it out of my purse.    </p><p>There's a message.    </p><p><em>'Where are you?'</em>    </p><p>My heart thumps heavily. <em>'Outside. You're here?'</em> I reply.    </p><p>I wait for his message. But a minute passes and there's none. Another minute and still nothing.     </p><p>I shut my mind off. The anticipation is killing me so I take another long sip.     </p><p>I choke on my drink. And there's a laugh.    </p><p>He's here.</p><p>I slowly turn to the direction where I think he is. Grey eyes stare at me. My knees almost buckle down.     </p><p>I don't remember exactly what happened next. Maybe I set my glass down somewhere, then I ran to him.     </p><p>All I know is that my arms are now wrapped around his waist, my face on his chest. And I'm crying.    </p><p>He chuckles and returns my embrace. "Hey there."    </p><p>I don't speak. I don't want this moment to end. I hug him tighter.    </p><p>"Hermione."    </p><p>I look up and he's smiling down at me. I feel conscious of how I look like and I pull away from him immediately, wiping at my face. Shit. My make-up's ruined.    </p><p>"Hey, you all right?"    </p><p>I nod. "Yes."    </p><p>We're looking at each other. And he's an arm away from me.    </p><p>I can feel myself blushing. "Well, hi."    </p><p>He smirks. "Hi."    </p><p>"So..."    </p><p>"You look..."    </p><p>"What?"    </p><p>"Never mind..."    </p><p>"Okay."    </p><p>And we're awkward. I guess that's normal. I mean, I haven't seen him for two years. But we are best friends. And I shouldn't feel this way. But my heart's betraying me, reminding me of feelings I kept hidden away for so long.    </p><p>I try to lighten the mood. "What took you so long, you git?"    </p><p>His eyes are twinkling. "University and a movie?"    </p><p>"Oh, I forgot. You're actually famous now, aren't you?"    </p><p>He shakes his head, amused. "What about you? Still an insufferable know-it-all?"    </p><p>I shrug. "Same old, same old."    </p><p>"Nice dress," he comments.    </p><p>"Mum gave it to me."    </p><p>His eyebrows raise a fraction. "Ah. Really?"    </p><p>Someone's calling him. A tall blonde in a red dress is walking to us. She's terribly familiar.</p><p>She kisses him. And I almost gasp in surprise. Draco pulls away and grins at me sheepishly.    </p><p>"Umm. Hermione, this is Astoria. Astoria, Hermione."    </p><p>Oh. I remember now. Astoria Greengrass. The model. "Hi."    </p><p>Astoria smiles and extends a manicured hand. I reach for it. "So you're the best friend. Nice to finally meet you."    </p><p>"And, you're the girlfriend I suppose?"    </p><p>"The one and only."    </p><p>I feel heavy. Dizzy. I want to leave.     </p><p>"Pleasure."</p><p>Draco excuses himself. Astoria and I start chatting. About America. About runway fashion. About Draco's acting career. Then about me.</p><p>"You're studying in Oxford, right?"</p><p>I nod.</p><p>"Political Science?"</p><p>"No. Biochemistry."</p><p>"Really?"</p><p>I'm about to say yes. But Astoria interrupts me. "I swear. You're more like the lawyer type."</p><p>Oh. "Oh."</p><p>"I meant that as a compliment, of course."</p><p>Sure. "Thank you."</p><p>"Where did Draco go off to again?"</p><p>Probably a wank. "The loo."</p><p>Then silence.</p><p>I've never felt more hideous, standing beside her. I want to grab my compact mirror and check if I still look human. My hair's probably all bushy again.</p><p>I text Pansy: <em>'I want to go home.'</em></p><p>
  <em>'It's not even an hour. You okay?'</em>
</p><p>
  <em>'Tired.'</em>
</p><p>
  <em>'Draco's here. I told him to get you food.'</em>
</p><p>
  <em>'What?'</em>
</p><p>She doesn't reply anymore. I huff in annoyance.</p><p>She keeps babysitting me.</p><p>I've always had her back when I first met her in person two years ago through Harry. She was the girlfriend studying in a fancy boarding school. And that she was also going to Oxford and is looking for a flatmate. Harry suggested me.</p><p>And here we are. I'm glad I met her. She's a really great friend, even if she can be a big snob.</p><p>But she's been more mother-like to me these past few months.</p><p>I put my phone back in my purse. Draco arrives with a plate full of small slices of decadent cakes.</p><p>"Pansy told me to get you something to eat."</p><p>"I can't eat all of that," I point out.</p><p>"Who said you will?" Then he plops what seems to be a blueberry cheesecake into his mouth with his eyebrow raised.</p><p>I roll my eyes.</p><p>Astoria asks about Theo's whereabouts. Apparently, they're cousins. Draco tells her he's inside, canoodling with Oliver Wood. She leaves, but not before kissing him.</p><p>I look down.</p><p>"Are you all right?"</p><p>I say yes. Because that's what he wants to hear.</p><p>"Oh right," he says, remembering something, "Mother's visiting from Wiltshire tomorrow. Said she wants to have tea with you." Then he adds, "Bloody woman. Misses her son's best friend more than her child."</p><p>I laugh, shaking my head. "Same old Narcissa."</p><p>He offers the plate to me. I take a strawberry swirl. Fuck, it's so good.</p><p>"So, are you coming?"</p><p>I think of my schedule for tomorrow. "I have a class on eight 'til twelve. Then after that, I'm free."</p><p>"Good. I'll tell her that."</p><p>"Okay."</p><p>He gazes up the sky. Probably looking for the constellation that inspired his name.</p><p>I study his features. He still looks like the Draco Malfoy I knew since I was twelve. Platinum blond hair. Grey eyes with speckles of blue. Handsome as ever, but, more mature.</p><p>He gives up his search and fixes his attention to me. He opens his mouth, but closes it again.</p><p>"I miss you," I say.</p><p>He smiles wistfully. "I miss you too."</p><p>And I want to kiss him. But I can't. He's not mine.</p><p>Never will be.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tea is nice. It really is.</p><p>The biscuits are, too. And the eclairs. </p><p>But I realize how expensive the menu is here at Lumos. I wonder about my wallet if it'll survive the bill. </p><p>"Hermione dear," an elegant voice snaps me out of my reverie.</p><p>It never fails to amaze me how Narcissa Malfoy remains to look like she came out of a magazine every time I see her. It's a talent I guess. One that require lots of dedication. And money.</p><p>But I still love her.</p><p>"How is university?" she continues.</p><p>Bland. Boring. Stressful. Expensive. "Good."</p><p>Narcissa isn't buying it, I can tell. Her eyebrow is raised, which reminds me so much of Draco.</p><p>"Just good?"</p><p>"Well, no. It's far from good. But I am good. I think."</p><p>"Hmmm," then she grabs her cup and saucer before taking a sip of her jasmine tea. I copy her, for a lack of originality. How genius of you, Hermione Granger.</p><p>"I take it you've met my son's current conquest?"</p><p>Conquest? "Astoria?" She nods. "Oh, yes. Last night, at Theo's party. She's... lovely. And beautiful."</p><p>"Lacks personality, but beautiful indeed."</p><p>"Draco's really lucky..."</p><p>Narcissa snorts, taking me by surprise. It's so unlikely of her. "I'd say, it's more of the opposite. But then again, my son's taste in women is quite poor. I'm pretty sure you remember Tracey Davis, dear."</p><p>Oh, God. It was a disaster. </p><p>I never really understood why Draco and Tracey Davis thought it was a great idea to have a little snog in the men's water closet during class hours. Professor Snape, our chemistry teacher at the time, was both horrified and furious, having caught two juniors eating each others mouth. Lucius, Draco's father, and Narcissa, were called in by Headmistress McGonagall, informing them of their son's misbehavior. Draco was forced to help clean the manor that year as punishment. And the two of them were sent to Nurse Pomfrey for weekly lectures about contraceptives and abstinence.</p><p>I giggle. "How's Lucius?" I then ask.</p><p>"Although he wouldn't say, I'm certain he misses Draco. And you, too."</p><p>"I doubt that."</p><p>"I've been married to the man for twenty-three years, Hermione. I know him all-too-well."</p><p>We stay in the café for a few more hours before leaving. Narcissa invites me to go shopping. I want to. But money...</p><p>"As much as I'd want to, I have essays to do. Maybe next time."</p><p>Narcissa smiles and gives me a hug. "Let loose a little, dear. You're too stressed. But it was nice seeing you again and I would love it if you come to Wiltshire for Christmas."</p><p>"Oh, sure. I'll come and visit."</p><p>She's studying me. Her lips are curled downward and it's making me worry. Do I have dirt on my face? Or maybe I put on a little too much blush. Oh no.</p><p>"My son really is an idiot..."</p><p>I'm confused. I tilt my head a little to the side, questioning her statement. But Narcissa smiles again and pats my cheek. "Nothing, dear."</p><hr/><p>I watch in amusement as Pansy tries to flip an omelette. She's scowling and obviously frustrated. I bite my fist to refrain from laughing.</p><p>I came home to her whisking ingredients in a bowl. She's learning how to cook without the aid of her boyfriend, she said. I figure there's more to it than that, but she won't tell me the other reason why.</p><p>"How in honest God Harry is able to do this such thing easily baffles me," she complains through gritted teeth.</p><p>"Harry's in culinary school, so..." Pansy gives me the stink eye. I cover my mouth with my palm.</p><p>The omelette doesn't look horrible. In fact, it smells quite nice. But Pansy might've over done the red peppers. And the chives.</p><p>I scan the kitchen and see mess all around. Well, not really. But the island counter is littered with egg shells, egg splatters, and vegetable stems. The spice rack that Harry gave us for Christmas last year (and one we rarely even use) is gone from its organized state. The tiny spoons are everywhere, and the lids are askew. It's kinda irking me, to be honest.</p><p>"Pansy, why are you cooking?" She's been doing it since last month, starting on my birthday when she helped Harry bake the cake they gave me. Then she tried out other recipes that beginners aren't meant to learn yet, much to Harry's dismay, considering how messy the kitchen was during those times. The clutter's toned down a little bit, but still.</p><p>"I just want to. And I'm starving. Harry's not coming over today, so sod it all."</p><p>"But you don't really cook."</p><p>"Maybe I want to be a chef."</p><p>"And leave Oxford?"</p><p>"Uhuh."</p><p>"But your Political Science degree—"</p><p>"Hermione, are you going to keep talking or you'll shut up and eat my produce?"</p><p>"I'll shut up."</p><p>"Good."</p><p>She hands me a plate with a hefty serving of the omelette and a fork before sliding on one of the stools beside me.</p><p>Pansy's looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to judge her cooking skills. I roll my eyes and take a bite. Swallow, and then— "Nice. A bit salty, but nice."</p><p>"Really?"</p><p>"Yup," I pop the 'p'. Then another bite. Yum. </p><p>She starts to eat. No reaction of some sort. She seems satisfied. A massive difference from her failed attempt of a ratatouille.</p><p>We finish the meal in silence and I offer to clean up.</p><p>"I'll help since I'm the one who started this mess," she says and I agree. </p><p>I take all of the stuff to be washed in the sink. I like to wash by hand. It's almost therapeutic. </p><p>We work silently. And I'm rinsing the plates when Pansy asks me, "Does your throat still hurt?"</p><p>Odd question. "Not anymore. Why?"</p><p>"Hmm, no reason."</p><p>"You sure?"</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>My brows furrow. Weird.</p><p>I'm about to walk out of the kitchen when she stops me and tosses an apple. I catch it with less grace due to my horrid reflexes. "What's this?"</p><p>"Dessert."</p><p>I snort and go to my room to start on my essays.</p><p>My mind is occupied for a few hours. And I also do some advanced reading on Professor Tonks' class.</p><p>Then my phone's ringing. It's Draco. I pick up and decide to tease him a little bit.</p><p>"I'm sorry. It seems that Hermione Granger is busy being a swot, thus, rendering her unavailable to be gloated upon by a certain blond bloke. So please, leave a sordid message for her to ponder on."</p><p>He chuckles and it makes me all mushy inside. "You're mental."</p><p>"Oh, that must be the message! Goodbye then."</p><p>And then he's laughing like a drain. It goes on for a minute. I feel proud. He rarely laughs like this. Wish I can see him.</p><p>"My day's definitely skyrocketed. Thank you." He sounds tired.</p><p>"My pleasure. But how are you?"</p><p>I lean on the headboard and wait for his answer. He's walking, I guess. A soft thump, like he put the phone down on a counter.</p><p>His voice sounds a bit far when he speaks. "Knackered. We've been shooting for," then there's a scraping of metal on ceramic, "fifteen hours. And I'm not even the lead actor! I'm just the sidekick. But there are so many rehearsals. And costume changing. The film crew are more irritating today. And our director's been a pretentious tosser than usual. And it's <em>bloody cold</em>!"</p><p>They're in Edinburgh at the moment, filming a heist scene of some sort for the movie that's being directed by <em>avant-garde</em> (I'm rolling my eyes at this) filmmaker, Gilderoy Lockhart.</p><p>"Fifteen hours? And you flew from London to Edinburgh? Geez. Have you been sleeping?"</p><p>He scoffs. "Not a chance, Granger."</p><p>I check the time and I gasp. It's already half-past twenty-four. I've been studying for five hours? </p><p>I need a break. "Why in the world are you calling me? Go to sleep, Draco."</p><p>"I just wanted to hear you."</p><p>Oh. "And you need a rest. We can talk again tomorrow, you know?"</p><p>"Nah. It's okay."</p><p>"<em>Draco</em>," I try to be assertive. But he just chuckles in return. </p><p>"You're so adamant. Don't you want to talk to me?"</p><p>"Of course I do! And don't think you can manipulate me just because—"</p><p>"How's tea with her majesty?"</p><p>"—you're a sneaky git. Wait — what?"</p><p>"Tea. With mother."</p><p>"Oh. It was great. She's still beautiful."</p><p>"Hmm. That's good."</p><p>"She's quite disappointed you couldn't join."</p><p>"Yeah, I know."</p><p>"Lucius misses you, too."</p><p>"Bollocks. He's just mad he doesn't have anyone to boss around at home."</p><p>I laugh. "Maybe."</p><p>My eyes are getting droopy. Sleep. I want sleep.</p><p>I close my eyes. I can hear him breathing. He was drinking something earlier. Tea or coffee. Now I think he's on his bed, trying to fight off sleep to talk to me. For me.</p><p>
  <em>I just wanted to hear you.</em>
</p><p>"Granger?"</p><p>"Hmm?"</p><p>"Are you still with him?"</p><p>My eyes open. "What?"</p><p>"Weasel."</p><p>I shake my head, as if he can see me. "No. We're not together anymore."</p><p>"Ah..."</p><p>"We just didn't work out. He wanted different things. I wanted different things. So we decided to... separate. It's better off that way."</p><p>"Are you okay?"</p><p>"I am. It doesn't upset me as much anymore. Plus, I was never in love with Ronald." Because I love you.</p><p>"Well..."</p><p>"So, you and Astoria Greengrass... Are you guys serious?"</p><p>"I don't know. Maybe not. But I really like her and we've been dating for a year and a half."</p><p>"Oh. Okay..."</p><p>I don't know what to expect. Silly of me to think that he would leave her for me. He doesn't see me that way. I should stop.</p><p>He's yawning. "We need to sleep," I tell him.</p><p>Thank God he agrees. And we're saying our good nights. I'm about to end it, but then— "So, tomorrow? Can I call you again?"</p><p>I smile. "Yes. Good night, Draco." Then I hang up.</p><p>I stare at my phone for a few minutes before I decide to slip under the covers. I close my eyes, ready for slumber to take me.</p><p>
  <em>I just wanted to hear you.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>To @enderfem, @ianonreader, @Doktokrates, @HarukoHeiwajima, @L0W3o2i, and the three other guests, thank you so much!</p><p>You guys make me very happy.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I'm hyperventilating. </p><p>"Hermione?" Harry's getting worried. I need to be somewhere.</p><p>I stand up, and stagger to the loo. My knees buckle down. I'm on the floor. My back on the door.</p><p>I can't breathe.</p><p>My chest hurts. </p><p>The bathroom's suddenly blurry and something wet rolls down my cheeks. I slap them away. But they won't stop.</p><p>I'm terrified. </p><p>My hands are shaking.</p><p>And I'm sobbing.</p><p>Harry's knocking and asking if I'm alright. I want to say yes but I'm getting dizzy. And I'm scared. My head's a mess.</p><p>So many thoughts.</p><p>Stop. Draco. Die. Hideous. Die.</p><p>The world is spinning. </p><p>The toilet in front of me. I grip the sides as I empty the contents of my stomach. I'm gross. But I'm scared. And I'm crying still.</p><p>Make it stop.</p><p>I want everything to stop.</p><p>I'm a failure.</p><p>I need oxygen.</p><p>Inhale. Exhale. I count to five. Inhale. Exhale. One, two, three, four, five.</p><p>I repeat it again. God knows how long.</p><p>But I'm calming down. </p><p>I'm coming back to my senses.</p><p>I flush the toilet and slowly stand. I clean myself up.</p><p>Harry's standing outside the door when I open it, a concerned frown on his face. I feel guilty. "Are you okay?"</p><p>There's dirt on the floor. "Maybe. Yeah."</p><p>He sighs and redirects me back to the living room. He sits on one of the armchairs, while I, on the couch. He's giving me space and I appreciate him for it.</p><p>"Sorry for ruining movie night..."</p><p>"Hermione, nothing's more important than you."</p><p>"But still..."</p><p>"No. Not 'but still'."</p><p>"Sorry."</p><p>I avoid looking at him. My face is still puffy from the crying. </p><p>"Do you want me to tell Pansy?"</p><p>I forget she's actually not here. She's been staying in Paris for a few days now. She's coming back home tomorrow. "No."</p><p>"Okay."</p><p>And silence.</p><p>It's been months since my last episode. And I haven't seen my therapist for a long time. I thought I was fine already. But I guess not.</p><p>"Does... does Malfoy know?" Harry asks.</p><p>I shake my head. I don't want to tell Draco. I won't tell him. He doesn't need to know.</p><p>"Does your throat still hurt?"</p><p>The same question as Pansy's. I get it now. They mean <em>that</em>.</p><p>"No."</p><p>He nods and runs a hand through his raven hair. He's frustrated, I can tell. I'm not exactly helping the situation. Even after getting convinced by Harry and Pansy to get help, I still find myself difficult to open up. Not even to my therapist.</p><p>Harry stays in the flat for an hour more before leaving.</p><p>It's Sunday the next day and I stay home, busying myself with books. I'm reading up on genetics when the doorbell rings. </p><p>Having expected Pansy to arrive, it's a shock when I see Draco instead. He's wearing a grey jumper over a white button-up, and black jeans that fit him perfectly.</p><p>I try not to gawk at him.</p><p>"Well, aren't you inviting me in?"</p><p>"Err, y-yes. Oh, yes," I stutter awkwardly before moving aside to let him enter.</p><p>He struts his way inside and observes the place. His eyebrows raise as if he was impressed. Maybe with the furnishing. Or the portrait of a naked lady hanging above the telly.</p><p>He turns to me. "Nice flat."</p><p>"It's Pansy's. We share the rent."</p><p>"Ah. Where is she?"</p><p>"Paris. But she's arriving today. Fancy a cuppa?" With his nod, I walk to the kitchen and he follows and sits on a stool while I prepare the kettle.</p><p>"Oh. I brought stuff." Then he hands me a familiar black box with a red ribbon on top.</p><p>Oh my God. "Oh my God."</p><p>I lift the lid and squeal in excitement as my eyes land on beautiful macarons. But I stop myself from getting one. I give the box back to him. "No. Thou shall not tempt me. Not when the tea isn't served yet."</p><p>Draco sniggers. "It's the reason why I'm here, Granger. To seduce you with delectable dessert and ask you to run away with me."</p><p>Seduce. Run away with him. My heart skips a beat.</p><p>"Astoria will probably be delighted with that." Then I ask him if he prefers black or keemun. He says black. So I choose keemun.</p><p>His eye roll is getting better and better as we grow older.</p><p>"Speaking of your girlfriend..." I trail off, hoping he catches the question.</p><p>He blinks. "She's gone back to America for a photoshoot. I think — Vogue."</p><p>"And you?"</p><p>"Shit, I forgot. Do you have wine?"</p><p>"Umm. I think we have a bottle. Why?"</p><p>"Because we're celebrating."</p><p>"Celebrating what?"</p><p>"My character's demise."</p><p>I must look perplexed because Draco chortles. I prepare the tea and hand him his cup. We both take a sip before I nudge him to explain what he meant.</p><p>"You know what, fuck the wine. This tea is good."</p><p>I smile at that. "And the movie?"</p><p>"Right. I had my final shoot yesterday. And that's because my character gets killed halfway through the story. It's amazing."</p><p>I've never met someone so amused for having their movie character die. Maybe memorizing all those lines have made him bonkers. "And... what's amazing about that?"</p><p>"I've escaped our director's cage. Lockhart is just a load of bollocks. And the plot was just downright stupid and unoriginal. Robert Dick is also a stupid name." His face then contorts to of disgust.</p><p>Agreed. I mean, Gilderoy Lockhart isn't someone known for original content...</p><p>"Well, congratulations then." I raise my cup to him. "To Robert Dick's death."</p><p>He clinks his mug with mine. "To Robert Dick's death."</p><p>After the toast, we start munching on the macarons that he got from our favorite patisserie.</p><p>Heaven. This is heaven.</p><p>Eating stellar sandwich cookies with Draco Malfoy. </p><p>But a question pops into my head. "Draco, so if you're done with the filming, you're heading back to America then?"</p><p>"Nah. Not until after New Year's. I've been away from the UK long enough."</p><p>"What about your classes?"</p><p>"I'm on an early break."</p><p>"Oh. Okay."</p><p>"So Christmas."</p><p>"What about it?"</p><p>"It's only about a month away. And mother told me she invited you to go to Wiltshire."</p><p>I nod.</p><p>"She suggested to tag Potter and Pansy along. We can all go together."</p><p>"I like that." I can't help but grin. He grins back.</p><hr/><p>Several weeks pass and it's already time for the winter holidays. Pansy, Harry, Draco, and I, have just arrived at Draco's childhood home via Harry's car. I slept through the whole trip.</p><p>The Malfoy's butler, Mr. Kreacher, greets us at the entrance. He's still as stoic as I can remember.</p><p>"Ah. The young master has arrived."</p><p>Draco blushes. "Kreacher, I told you. Draco's just fine."</p><p>"Oh, don't be such a wuss, <em>young master,</em>" Pansy teases.</p><p>Harry joins in. "Yeah. We are so honoured to be staying in your palace for the holidays, <em>young master.</em>"</p><p>Draco mutters a flurry of slurs. I pat him on the back. "It's alright, Draco. Young master has such a cute ring to it."</p><p>He pouts like a child. I feel fluffy. "Really?"</p><p>"Okay. Stop flirting and let's get inside. Or maybe you two want to warm each other up."</p><p>I shoot Pansy a glare. "That's terribly inappropriate."</p><p>But I step away from Draco. Feeling conscious all of a sudden. </p><p>I can't flirt. Even if Astoria's not here. </p><p>It's not right.</p><p>Mr. Kreacher leads us to the rooms where we'll be staying for a week. We're given each a suite but I don't think Harry and Pansy will be in their own respective rooms for a long time...</p><p>For the next few days, we explore the manor like children, and then join Narcissa and Lucius (who was <em>very</em> delighted to see me) for meals. I spend most of my time in their library that I've always loved. Draco, Narcissa or Lucius would join me sometimes, but most of the time, I'm left alone.</p><p>Christmas is great. Then I'll be at my parent's house for New Year's.</p><p>I'm happy.</p><p>I'm floating on a cloud.</p><p>All's well. </p><p>Until of course... I have to mess everything up. On Christmas eve.</p><p>Draco and I are left alone in his drawing room. Pansy and Harry went to the kitchens to get some more food. </p><p>I try to be comfortable, adjusting myself in the armchair, cupping a mug of hot chocolate that Miss Pinky, the cook, made for us.</p><p>The fire from the hearth keeps us from being cold. But I still feel chilly for some reason.</p><p>I think of Astoria and the way she kissed Draco. Wondering what it would be like if it was me instead. </p><p>And I'm overthinking again.</p><p>I look at Draco. His eyes are on the fire and he seems deep in thought.</p><p>I feel this weird... painful sense of longing. I've been longing for him for years.</p><p>Tears are welling up in my eyes.</p><p>Why won't you just see me? I'm right here. I always have.</p><p>There's this invisible wall between us, waiting to be broken down. Maybe... it's the wall that I've been building since I knew that I... him.</p><p>Maybe... I should be the one to shatter it.</p><p>The fire's burning bright.</p><p>"Draco?"</p><p>"Hmmm?"</p><p>I swallow the lump from my throat. I try to avoid his gaze. "Can I ask you something?"</p><p>He tilts his head, waiting. Just waiting.</p><p>This is a bad idea. But it's a bed I've made. And I have to lie in it.</p><p>A deep breath. "Have you ever wondered whether I feel something — more, I guess. For you, I mean." </p><p>He stops to think, taken aback by my question. He blinks. "I... Maybe. But I never really thought about it. Because I know you don't see me that way. Why?"</p><p>I bite my lip. </p><p>"Hermione?"</p><p>I hesitate. </p><p>"Because I do..." I whisper.</p><p>"What?"</p><p>A beat.</p><p>"I do feel something for you..."</p><p>Then just like that, the bricks come crashing down and is replaced by tense silence that makes me anxious.</p><p>I'm afraid to look at him. To see his reaction. But I slowly turn to him.</p><p>He's wide-eyed. And we just stare at each other.</p><p>I'm getting scared. I can feel myself about to start a panic attack. </p><p>My nails dig into my palms.</p><p>He opens his mouth. About to speak. About to say something with what I just told him.</p><p>But Pansy and Harry arrive back in the drawing room.</p><p>The walls soar high once more.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Two chapters left!</p><p>And thank you again to all who left a kudos and a review!</p>
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